


Winner Takes It All

by imbekkable



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blatant Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Martim Week 2021 (The Magnus Archives), Martim week: competitive, Sexual innuendos, That's it that's the plot, Tim being Tim, they're playing mario kart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbekkable/pseuds/imbekkable
Summary: Martin lies about being good at Mario Kart. Tim finds a way to make the game more interesting.Silly little one-shot for Martim week, day 7: Competitive.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 44
Collections: Martim Week 2021





	Winner Takes It All

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I gotta thank [Anna](https://annbun.tumblr.com) for being the best <3
> 
> Enjoy!

Martin awoke and was instantly aware that he wasn’t in his own flat. The sense of unfamiliarity was present even before he was properly conscious and he tried his best to locate his glasses, grabbing at a glass table next to him until he managed to get a hold of them.

The flat he was in was so inherently _Tim_ that he couldn’t help but smile a little. There really hadn’t been enough time to take it all in the night before, when they both stumbled into it, tipsy and tired. Tim had let him crash when it was too late to catch the tube to his own place, and he had been nothing but grateful. He hadn’t even bothered to take off any of his clothes, now regretting that decision immensely, as he felt rather hot and unkempt. All he could do right now was to run his hands through his hair, hoping to achieve an at least somewhat representable look.

As he looked around, he felt rather out of place and a little intrusive right there in the middle of Tim’s living room. To make things worse, Tim was nowhere to be seen. Martin didn’t exactly like the thought of searching for him, he’d rather just wait where he was, not making too much of a fuss. Luckily enough, Tim barged into the room just moments later.

“He lives!” Tim spread his arms wide in joy, a mug in his hand, its content sloshing around dangerously. “Did you sleep well?”

“Ah, I – Um, yes, I suppose?” as Martin took in the man in front of him, he tried his best not to look at Tim’s legs, long and lean, in plain view as he was sporting a baggy shirt and what appeared to be dark boxer-briefs. He tried even harder not to look at said boxer-briefs. He focused on the shirt instead, showing a very washed-out David Bowie. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”

“Anytime,” Tim replied, his half-smile somewhat challenging. It was an honest offer; Martin was sure of that. It was also heavy with something more. With Tim, his words often were.

“Right, so,” Martin cleared his throat and stood up from his place on the sofa, reluctantly, tugging on his clothes “I better get going then.”

“Oh, come on, Martin. Let me make you some coffee first,” Tim turned around without waiting for an answer. Martin went back to pretending that he wasn’t looking at his boxer-briefs, not from any angle, of course not.

“I – I’m not a fan of coffee.”

“Right. Tea, then?”

Martin considered his options. Tea didn’t sound so bad.

“Alright, if you _insist_ ,” he replied and couldn’t help but smile a little at Tim’s offer, following him into the kitchen. It felt nice, that he didn’t want Martin out of his place as soon as possible, or at least had the courtesy to pretend otherwise. Tim grinned back at him like a shark.

“Also, if I may remind you, you promised me to, ah, how did you describe it…” Tim opened a cabinet to grab a mug while he contemplated his next words. “ _Pulverise me,_ were the words you used; I believe? It was rather hot, if I may say so myself.”

“I – What?” Martin had no idea what Tim was referring to, and part of him was afraid to find out. He wasn’t the type to drink enough to forget, but the evening before had been rather entertaining. Perhaps he had gotten carried away after all.

“ _Mario Kart,_ remember? You kept boasting about your skills yesterday. Well, I want to see them in action,” Tim was still grinning while he talked, and Martin couldn’t help but sigh a little in relief at his words.

“Right. No, sure, I remember.”

“Good. I demand a round. Earl grey alright with you?”

“Oh, ah, right, yes,” he replied, and then remained silent as they both waited for the water to boil.

The thing was, Martin wasn’t even good at Mario Kart. At any video game, really. He had never been allowed to own game consoles when he was a kid and had always been too broke to afford one ever since he made his own money. There had always been too much rent to pay, too many unexpected expenses that had weighed him down, and when the decisions were to be made between unnecessary recreational entertainment or food, it always fell on the latter.

But then again, Tim didn’t know all that. Maybe, if he faked confidence, it would earn him a victory. And after all, how hard could it be? He had told bigger lies than that before and had people believe them. Tricking Tim into believing that Martin actually stood a change required him to feel somewhat confident though, so he vocalized the urge to somewhat freshen up.

Tim showed him the bathroom and even offered a fresh toothbrush, which Martin accepted thankfully. He felt significantly better when he made his way back to the living room, where Tim had already started getting the game ready. He was wearing a pair of long, grey joggers now and Martin couldn’t even pretend to feel surprised to find himself disappointed by that fact.

“You want me to make us some breakfast? Toast, eggs?”

Even though Martin tried to decline politely, Tim was already up again, skipping back into the kitchen. It gave Martin a little time to prepare and familiarise himself with the controller in front of him. Tim returned soon after with several pieces of toast, some knives and a butter dish that was a lot posher than Martin had anticipated. Martin had barely time to comment on it, as Tim had already successfully gulped down half a slice while somehow simultaneously starting the game.

It was time for Martin to try his best and play it cool, but there really weren’t that many buttons, so surely it would come naturally to him. At least, that’s what he hoped.

Tim selected Princess Peach while Martin went for Yoshi, and as Tim picked his kart with clear finesse, Martin just went by looks and chose one that looked fast. Martin made sure to leave the decision of choosing the right track to Tim, doing his best to try and hide his obvious lack of knowledge. He took a bite of his toast just in time before starting the race.

Tim had a clear advantage, his skill apparent as he shot to the front, but Martin had luck on his side. The game was chaotic and vibrant and _fun_ , so Martin couldn’t help but find himself laughing, laughing while throwing bananas and trying to get the next turn _just_ right, leaning into it with his whole body. He apologised the first time he bumped into Tim while trying to frantically hit one of the item boxes, and even the second, but by the third time he had gotten used to it and Tim didn’t exactly seem to mind at all. On the contrary, Tim seemed to overdo his movements on purpose, just to have a reason to bump into Martin as a result. The contact was nice and made Martin feel giddy and childish and wonderful.

Martin groaned when he found himself defeated after the first round, although he had done a better job than he had anticipated. The competition had seized him now and he was out for revenge. Especially now that Tim was grinning at him like a child.

“Alright, alright. Come on, Stoker. I’ll get you in the next one.”

“Oh, _assertive_ now, are we, Martin? I like that. Keep going.”

Martin gave him a dig with his elbow but smiled anyway. He did lose the next race as well but that only made him more competitive, refusing to take his eyes off the screen in front of him. He was close to kicking Tim off from the sofa, but only managed to make him giggle instead, which he didn’t actually mind that much, either.

When Martin managed to achieve victory by the third round, he jumped up cheering, punching the air, entirely consumed by his win. Tim had no problem with losing, as he was simply grinning while he watched Martin do a lap around his sofa, thanking an imaginary audience for their support.

“You know there’s one more round, right?”

“Let me have this moment, Tim,” Martin replied as he took a bow towards the TV. He sat back down, feeling a little breathless, and pretended that he hadn’t just acting somewhat peculiar. Tim gave him an appreciative pat on his thigh which he enjoyed more than he dared to admit. He cleared his throat, doing his best to act confident once again. “Right, where were we? Ah, yes. I think I was just about to obliterate you?”

“Oh, is that so, Martin? Well, what happens then?”

“What do you mean?” Martin knew that it was more than likely for Tim to be the one in first place after the last round, yet he felt intrigued.

“If you win. We could make it more interesting, is what I’m saying. Just counting the last round.”

“Like a bet? Huh… Alright. Okay,” Martin leaned back and thought about it for a moment. “If I win, drinks will be on you next time we’re at the pub.”

Martin didn’t dare to play for high stakes. Tim was already the person to pay for more rounds than any of the others, at least he usually did, so it wouldn’t actually change that much for him, either way. But Martin couldn’t think of anything better than that under pressure.

“That sounds reasonable,” Tim agreed, nodding. He then looked right at Martin before going on. “If I win, you have to give me a kiss.”

Martin snorted, not believing a word.

“Right,” he nodded, waiting for Tim to say what he was actually gambling for. But when Tim remained silent, looking at Martin in earnest, he felt heat rushing through his body. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, absolutely. You can go for the cheek, too, if that’s too much. Or my hand. Or opt out, entirely, I guess. I’m not going to force you to do anything. But I’d very much like you to kiss me,” Tim wasn’t even looking at Martin as he spoke, taking another bite from his toast before clicking the option for the next race.

The controller hadn’t felt so absolutely tiny and slippery in Martin’s hands before. He found his hands to be shaking a little bit with anticipation and they were also far too sweaty for his liking. But the final race was already starting, and he had to get it together.

And yet, Martin wasn’t entirely sure if he was even still trying to win.

The race felt different now. Martin couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, but he felt like Tim was testing him. The both of them made far more mistakes than in the races before, and Martin was so distracted by the sheer thought of kissing Tim that he was only in eighth place by the time they got to the second lap. Tim seemed to have the time of his life, apparently unbothered by what they were playing for, even as messed up most of his corners, no longer drifting like he did before.

Far too soon, they were on the last lap of the race, and Martin knew he had to make up his mind, as he watched Tim fall back on purpose, slowing down, even though he made no comment on it. Tim left the choice up to him. Either that, or he was trying to tease him. Martin simply dropped the controller he was holding into his lap, letting Tim take the victory.

The idea of free drinks was nice enough, but the thought of kissing Tim was definitely much better.

Tim looked at him in surprise just as Princess Peach crossed the finish line, long before Yoshi got there. Martin turned towards him and stared right at Tim’s lips, parting in what was a clear attempt to say something. Acting before his courage would leave him, Martin leaned in, pressing his lips against Tim’s open mouth. Tim stayed very still as he did so, which Martin found to be somehow disconcerting. He pulled away, the fear that Tim had been joking after all washing over him with such force that he suddenly felt cold. Martin leaned back and tried to get up, the horror of what he had done making him feel sick, but Tim was faster, reading his face, as he dropped his own controller to take Martin’s hands into his.

“Sorry, Martin, I – I was – I didn’t expect–“

Martin couldn’t remember a single time he found Tim to be so flustered. Tim’s hands were holding his tightly, spreading a feeling of warmth, from his fingers up to Martin’s cheeks.

“Could you do it again? Please?” Tim asked him so sweetly that Martin barely believed it was still Tim sitting in front of him, showing him a side that was so entirely different to what he was used to.

Martin took a deep breath and then complied eagerly, leaning in once more, and this time, Tim was ready for him. Martin tilted his head until they got the angle _just_ right, and their lips felt like they were always meant to find their way there. Tim returned the kiss with such vigour; it knocked the air right out of Martin’s lungs. Martin laughed a little as he pulled away, too overjoyed by the fact that he was kissing Tim to hide it.

“I don’t think my kissing-skills have ever been laughed at before,” Tim said, voice full of mock offense.

“No, Tim, I’m– I’m enjoying this, that’s all.”

“Well, I’m glad. We don’t have to stop,” as Tim spoke, he pressed a kiss onto Martin’s cheek, “Unless, you’ve had your fill,” another kiss onto his jaw, “then I shall stop this instant,” and then brushed his lips against Martin’s neck, ever so slightly, his breath hot against his skin.

“Let me think about it,” Martin bantered, acting like Tim’s actions did nothing to him, when they were in fact causing quite the turmoil inside of him. He then pulled onto Tim’s shirt until he could kiss him again, leaving his words irrelevant.

Kissing Tim was thrilling, unpredictable and fun. Martin allowed his hands to roam free, stroking over Tim’s chest, the material of his shirt soft to the touch. The fabric of his joggers was even softer, he found out just a moment later, as his left hand found a place to rest on Tim’s thigh. Tim grinned against his mouth, grasping Martin’s hair with one hand to pull him back slightly, looking at him unabashedly.

“You know, you’re really hot, Martin. Especially when you lie about your gaming skills.”

Martin grinned back at him and was trying to come up with a good comeback when Tim tugged on his hair, making him put his head back. Tim left innumerable kisses on his exposed neck, which made breathing quite a difficult task all of a sudden.

“Well,” Martin tried, but it came out all throaty, so he took a moment until Tim released him, and he could speak properly again. “There are other skills that I excel in, actually.”

“Is that so?” Tim grinned, and then climbed onto Martin’s lap like it was the most natural thing to do.

“Oh, oh, yes. Myriads of them, to be honest.”

“How fascinating,” Tim mused, now straddling Martin properly.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll show you one or two of them.”

“Well, I’m definitely hoping to get lucky, Martin. Also, since you seem to be so eager to finish first, may I-”

The rest of the joke got lost as Martin laughed and shoved Tim off of him, making sure that the other would still land safely on the couch. He knew that wasn’t enough to keep Tim quiet though, so he went back to kissing him, which was a much nicer thing to do than talking, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing hasn't actually felt quite up to par lately but the urge to participate in Martim week was stronger than my self-doubt and I ended up having fun writing this :D  
>    
> Thank you for reading ♡ Comments are much appreciated, as they have literally made my day in the past!


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